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Memory I think most of my childhood is already missing from me. I think this because it takes me a considerable amount of concentration to produce memories from any time before middle school. That isn’t to say that I don’t know what happened. I have knowledge of the events that made my life and I even in some cases know what I thought at the time. But an annoying little demon in the back of my mind keeps reminding me that there is no way I know if that’s what I was thinking. Maybe I’m just thinking what I think I thought. After all you can only ever think from the present, there isMemory
by ~DeaconSyre
Sweet EmbraceSweet EmbraceSweet Embrace
Sleep's sweet embrace, A gentle touch on the head, A loving caresses to our cheek, Close your eyes and go to sleep.
The serene blending, Of mind and body. Dreams like fireflies, On a moonless night, Flicker across our tight-sealed lids. Limbs pulled tight, Crumpled underneath, Or stretched wide, Bleed their exhaustion away.
But all good things must end. Sunlight, Family, Traffic, Or the incessant blaring, Of an alarm set much too soon.
My arms scream in protest, As first they r
by ~DeaconSyre
BoredomBoredomBoredom
Every day at seven, I hear him get out of bed. Every day at seven-thirty, I Get out of bed. Every day at eight, I wish him a good day of work, Every day at eight-thirty, I Wish little Andy and Anna a good day of school, As they board the bus.
Every day at nine... I wish it would all go away, As I stare at the ceiling above the tub, The world muted out by the warm, Grasping, Loving, Water Surrounding all but my face.
Every day at eleven, I talk politics with Diane. Every day at twelve, I hav
by ~DeaconSyre
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